You can't fix what isn't broken
by Calculus and Broadway
Summary: It's something that she's always known about herself, but now it has a name. Faberry, with asexual!Quinn.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was written for a prompt on the GAM on lj. At first it took a different direction so the second chapter is the 'alternate ending' of sorts. Also, Quinn's response mirrors, to a large extent, my own. If you'd like more information on asexuality, asexuality(dot)org is a wonderful site.

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><p>It's something that she's always known about herself. It didn't sneak up on her, sucking away a part of her and leaving a hole where that urge had been. There was no hole; there never had been an urge. At first she thought she was normal, and then she tried so desperately hard to <em>be<em> normal. Then she found a name for it, and through the tears she could whisper it as if it was an accusation. _Asexual._

Finding the information had been hard. So many blogs and websites tried to tell her that she just hadn't found the right person. That when she found someone she actually loved it would be like a flower blooming inside, arching across the gap, the _lack_, in her and healing it. Like she was broken in yet another way.

Mentally she was a patchwork of _you had a daughter at 16, you're a slut,_ and _no one would ever chose you if they could have someone else_ and _you'll never measure up_. At first she blamed the people around her for those scars and it had taken a summer of toeing the edge of a cliff before she was brought back to safety.

Physically she was a mass of faded bruises and bones held together with pins and wire and skin stitched closed with thread. She wanted to give up, just take the whole bottle of pills the doctor sent home when she was finally released from the hospital and surrender to a darkness that had to be less painful than living but eventually the pain receded and the pills ran out.

She didn't think she could handle it if even emotionally she was defective. She had tried, even before she had a name for it, to mold herself together with wine coolers and the caress of a boy who said he loved her. But it wasn't that boy, or the boy who she convinced herself she loved, who had saved her before.

Rachel's words had dragged her from the edge of the cliff. Rachel's hands had taken hers and helped her stand by herself for the first time after the accident. But even Rachel couldn't ignite the feelings everyone seemed to think she should have. Did that mean she didn't love Rachel?

She loved Rachel. She had been falling in love with Rachel since junior year, probably even earlier but she was so consumed in the pregnancy to consider the feelings. It was hard to imagine life without Rachel - impossible. When she thought of the future, the brunette was always there. They understood each other in a way that she had never been able to find with anyone before or since. She knew every expression on Rachel's face. She could tell each thought as it passed through her mind. Nothing was perfect, they still fought sometimes, but at the end of the day she knew that they would defend each other against anything.

And yet she sometimes had to force herself not to flinch away from touches that got too intimate, school her face into a mask of pleasure instead of repulsion. But Rachel knew her too well, knew how to tell a lie, even one not spoken. And if she didn't do something, _fix herself again_, Rachel would be gone.

She kept her secret for a long time, the word always rising to the surface when she most wanted to forget about it. It taunted her, whispering in her ear when Rachel was spread under her. She wanted to ignore it, to push it away and go back to pretending nothing was wrong.

When she finally broke down, when the secret grew to be too big to hide, she expected Rachel to hate her. She expected shouting and accusations and _hurt_. What she didn't expect was gentle arms holding her close and smoothing her hair while whispering _you're perfect, you're perfect_. She didn't expect Rachel to spend hours researching on the internet. She didn't expect it, but she should have. Rachel was always the one who understood her, the one who know how to slowly drag her from her deepest pits and see that the world wasn't ending. The only one who could force her to accept herself not only for everything that she was, but also for what she wasn't.


	2. Alternate Ending

A/N: So this is the 'alternate ending.' The first bit is the same, but it branches off and...well, you'll see.

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><p>It's something that she's always known about herself. It didn't sneak up on her, sucking away a part of her and leaving a hole where that urge had been. There was no hole; there never had been an urge. At first she thought she was normal, and then she tried so desperately hard to <em>be<em> normal. Then she found a name for it, and through the tears she could whisper it as if it was an accusation. _Asexual._

Finding the information had been hard. So many blogs and websites tried to tell her that she just hadn't found the right person. That when she found someone she actually loved it would be like a flower blooming inside, arching across the gap, the _lack_, in her and healing it. Like she was broken in yet another way.

Mentally she was a patchwork of _you had a daughter at 16, you're a slut,_ and _no one would ever chose you if they could have someone else_ and _you'll never measure up_. At first she blamed the people around her for those scars and it had taken a summer of toeing the edge of a cliff before she was brought back to safety.

Physically she was a mass of faded bruises and bones held together with pins and wire and skin stitched closed with thread. She wanted to give up, just take the whole bottle of pills the doctor sent home when she was finally released from the hospital and surrender to a darkness that had to be less painful than living but eventually the pain receded and the pills ran out.

She didn't think she could handle it if even emotionally she was defective. She had tried, even before she had a name for it, to mold herself together with wine coolers and the caress of a boy who said he loved her. But it wasn't that boy, or the boy who she convinced herself she loved, who had saved her before.

Rachel's words had dragged her from the edge of the cliff. Rachel's hands had taken hers and helped her stand by herself for the first time after the accident. But even Rachel couldn't ignite the feelings everyone seemed to think she should have. Did that mean she didn't love Rachel?

She loved Rachel. She had been falling in love with Rachel since junior year, probably even earlier but she was so consumed in the pregnancy to consider the feelings. It was hard to imagine life without Rachel - impossible. When she thought of the future, the brunette was always there. They understood each other in a way that she had never been able to find with anyone before or since. She knew every expression on Rachel's face. She could tell each thought as it passed through her mind. Nothing was perfect, they still fought sometimes, but at the end of the day she knew that they would defend each other against anything.

And yet she sometimes had to force herself not to flinch away from touches that got too intimate, school her face into a mask of pleasure instead of repulsion. But Rachel knew her too well, knew how to tell a lie, even one not spoken. And if she didn't do something, _fix herself again_, Rachel would be gone

_Asexual_. The word was still on her lips, tears still trapped in her lashes and mascara running down her face, when Rachel got home from another round of auditions. The set of the hopeful actress' shoulders told Quinn that yet another director had passed her by, but for the first time she wasn't there with an embrace and a soft kiss and a joke to get a smile.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked. For the first time, she didn't seek comfort from Rachel but wrapped her own arms around her body as if that would substitute. She heard a thump as Rachel dropped her purse on the table and then there was an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against a warm body that she didn't deserve. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," She whispered, burying her head in Rachel's neck, breathing in the smell of strawberry shampoo and trying to convince herself to pull away before her tears and mascara ruin the white sun dress Rachel is wearing.

"Shhh, Quinn."She takes comfort in the hand circling on her back, caressing her and holding her close and making her feel safe. "Everything's okay."

"No it's not." She hasn't felt so broken since she was lying in pieces at the hospital, wanting to rage but lacking the strength because no matter what she does _nothing will change what's already happened. _"It's not okay. _I'm_ not okay. I'm…I'm a _freak._"

"You're perfect," Rachel whispered. Quinn loved her for her blind faith. Without even knowing the problem Rachel knew exactly what to say. "You're perfect."

"I'm not," Quinn said, voice hoarse from crying for so long. She wrapped her arms around Rachel and held on as if that was her single lifeline. "I'm not even _normal._"

"Tell me what's wrong," Rachel insisted. She didn't believe the words, though there was no indication of lying. There were pieces of her missing, pieces she never even knew to miss. Now that there was a name, a _condition_, it was like a spotlight on all her failings.

"I don't want to have sex with you." The words were absurd. So absurd. She laughed, collapsing in on herself when Rachel pulled away. It was exactly the reaction she was expecting and she only laughed harder. Confronted with losing the best thing in her life and the only thing she can do is laugh.

"I don't understand," Rachel said, brows furrowed in a way that makes Quinn want to kiss the wrinkles away. The laughter fizzled away and only a few giggles escape her lips as she tried to come up with an explanation. "Don't you…don't you love me?"

"Of course. I'll always love you." The words were spoken with confidence. And they were true. She did love Rachel with that same desperate feeling she'd always had. She could still close her eyes and see them growing old together, living in New York City but eventually moving to the suburbs when they started a family. Playing with their two children and taking them to see their mom on stage. Going on vacation back to Ohio to visit Rachel's dads and their old friends. Selling their house in the suburbs when the kids were off to college and moving back to the city where they could enjoy the theatre and shopping until they grew too old and all they wanted to do was sit together and remember.

"Then what's wrong?" Quinn wanted to know the words to explain, but words just kept floating in her head, circling around that one word that is forever imprinted in her mind.

"I'm asexual." She didn't look at Rachel. The thought of seeing the disgust in Rachel's eyes was terrifying. She didn't think she would be able to bear it, so her eyes traced the edge of a wine stain on the carpet while the silence stretched between them.

"A…sexual?"

"It means I don't want sex. I don't like it." Tears threatened to fall again but she closed her eyes tightly and held them back.

"But we've had sex. I mean…" There was the sound and Quinn knew Rachel was sitting at the table. She let her eyes trail along the floor, following the path between them until she was looking at Rachel's feet, tracing up her legs until she looked at Rachel's face. "Didn't you like it? Is it me?"

"It's not you!" She was adamant. "It's good with you, it is. I don't think it could ever get better." She paused, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut so she could force the next words out of her mouth. "You deserve someone who will give you everything…"

"But I want _you_." Rachel stood up again, hands clenched in fists at her side. "We can work through this. I won't give up on this marriage."

"This isn't something to work through, Rach!" Quinn shouted it because she didn't know what else to do. "I'm not trying to get over getting rid of my baby or recovering from an accident. You can't fix me this time!"

"Then help me understand." And Rachel spoke the words that slowed the chasm opening between them. Quinn felt her heart flutter and she did the only thing she could think of. She closed the distance between them, a few feet that a moment before felt like a million, and wrapped her arms around her wife, pressing kisses to the top of her head. There was no hesitation before Rachel's embraced her back.

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><p>AN: So just curious - first ending or second?


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